


High Hopes Low Patience

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [25]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), High Hopes Low Rolls (Web Series)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, I don't know how to tag this it's basically me rambling, Other, Paddy and Malark have no clue what they're doing and neither do I, a bed is shared, another town with a weird name, i have no clue why we named it that, i may have missed some tws but let me know if i did please, oh wait the town name means sheep shoe my bad, there's some implications of Paddark, this isn't the canon ending it's the original one i didn't go with, this one means shoe sheep, well "implications" meaning there's a kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: The original version of High Hopes Low Will to Live that I had.Basically, while High Hopes is looking for a death-cure for Paddy, the messenger from Paddy’s deathplace (which I don’t think I ever named the town) decides to show her face and drop someone off.
Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692196
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	High Hopes Low Patience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BubbleDramatically](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubbleDramatically/gifts).



> This one is basically a crack fic. Anyways, the messenger’s name is Cybil Whitney, technically this is a crossover with my actual published series but Cybil doesn’t exist yet (she appears in Legends of the Sword: The Jade Labyrinth, which hasn’t even been written yet, and she is Annlis and Catrin’s daughter which is why she can jump between worlds without issue) in there. This is also technically a crossover to one of my Teen Wolf fics as well (“The Return of ARCHER”, which I really need to get back to) but you don’t have to read that at all unless you want to because Cybil’s mothers are both shapeshifters from another universe so she kind of has those rules applying to her.  
> The town name is Latin, thanks to BubbleDramatically for finding it. Apparently it means sheep shoe?

They were in the town of Calceus Ovium, looking for a death-cure.

“Okay, what I want to know is…why are we looking for a…sheep shoe?” Gwing asked, looking over at Rook and Zada. The wizard and the moon elf had been spearheading the search so far, and had done a pretty decent job, but after two weeks of constant wild goose chases they were all beginning to get a little bit tired.

“It’s something we need in order to do the spell…” Rook mused, staring down at the book in front of him. Running a hand over his face and up into his hair, he sighed and added, “I think.”

Before Malark could answer, the doors to the inn smashed open and someone walked in with another person in tow. “Hey! Watch the doors—they’re—” The innkeep stopped talking when the person who’d kicked them open waved her hand. Bright bursts of purple and gold magic split from her fingertips and wrapped around the doors, straightening them out and returning them to a state that seemed like they had been made that morning. “Thanks?”

“No problem. Come on.” She yanked her friend over and they sat down at a table. Said friend was nervous, bouncing their knee while she ordered some food. As Malark watched, she glanced over at him, smiled, and then _winked_.

The young woman appeared to be in her early twenties, with no actual appearance. He wasn’t just saying that—her appearance _shifted as he watched her_. One second, her hair was straw-straight and straw-yellow and her eyes were a blue that matched his own with sharpness. The next, however, her skin had darkened to the same shade of topaz that he’d seen on many a noble’s ring and her eyes and hair were almost jet-black. Her outfit shifted, too. One moment, it looked vaguely like a blue dress beneath a brown cloak and then suddenly it wasn’t. She had black pants and riding boots and a tawny-beige shirt that had blue paint stains and the cloak had shortened into a jacket that hung around her ribs and had a hood. Grinning, she made an odd little salute like the one Paddy had given right before he sealed himself off from the others, then turned and walked towards her friend with the food.

Frowning, Malark watched her. There was something about her, although he didn’t know quite what. As she strode back with the confidence of someone who owned the world, hair bouncing around her shoulders (had it gotten _shorter? What_ was she?), her friend looked up. He seemed familiar in the way that Malark couldn’t place (or maybe he didn’t want to). Reaching up, he touched Paddy’s mask where it was hanging around his neck. They’d put the pieces together, and they were slowly mending with gold thanks to another one of Rook’s spells. Part of him felt _wrong_ wearing the mask, as if it were nothing more than a macabre remnant of someone long gone.

_But he won’t be for long. That’s why we’re on this mission in the first place._ He thought, frowning and then turning back to the others. Gwing and Hashaan had brought some food over, and Rook and Zada were chatting about the sheep shoe (whatever the heck that was) between bites and breaths.

_Can’t wait until Paddy’s back._ He mused to himself.

Hashaan leaned against one of the nearby booths after downing an entire bowl of whatever it was they had ordered. A slight smile played on her face, and her green eyes darted to Malark. “Malark, vhy don’t you come over here and sit down vith the others?” She asked, and he shrugged but went over anyways.

Which was when the shapeshifter girl from the other table decided to stand up and come over.

Well, saying that she _came_ over was a bit neutralizing. She really _sauntered_ over, careless like she knew she held all the power in the room. Maybe she did. Maybe she knew every single one of their secrets, but the mischievous look in her eyes was downplayed by the fire of serious power that meant she _knew_ she could take anyone in the room. She didn’t care. She was the kind of person who did what she wanted, and that was what made her dangerous.

Which was why, when she walked over, Malark immediately stopped and met her gaze, already prepping for a fight.

“Hey, High Hopes.” Smiling casually, she glanced back at her friend and nodded her head, an indication for them to walk over. “Thought you might want someone of yours back. You left them behind by accident.”

“What are you talking about?” Malark asked, frowning slightly, and he could have sworn the newcomer (not the girl, her friend) looked…sad. “Who are you?” He directed the question specifically at her, although the person wilted just a little more.

“The name’s Cybil, but you wouldn’t know me. I’m doing you a little favour.” Cybil snapped her fingers and the book in front of Rook and Zada flew into her hands. With a deft twist of her hand, she ripped out one of the pages, swept her hand over the spine, and then handed it back. “Don’t go after the sheep shoe, it’s a farce to bring more people to the town. Can’t blame them for needing the economic boost, but just leave tomorrow.” Tapping her friend on the shoulder, she pulled something off their jacket like she was grabbing a feather off them and then grinned broadly. “And with that, I have some people to fight and worlds to jump to. See you never!”

She walked off casually, hands linked behind her back.

Glancing at the others, Malark shrugged before looking back at the person Cybil had left with them. “Care to explain what she meant by—” Gwing cut off when she looked, too, and several of the High Hopes members’ spoons clattered to the table, their bowls, or even the floor (in Ryce’s case).

Standing in front of them, alive and well and completely unharmed, was Paddy Whitlaw.

“Paddy!” Nagar jumped forward and enveloped the wood elf in a hug that had to be bone-crushing. In his arms, Paddy let out an odd grunt and tapped Nagar’s ribs as best he could, mumbling something about not being able to breathe. When Nagar let him go, the others (excluding Hashaan, Malark, Gwing, and Rook—although the last was because he had fallen asleep in his food while Cybil spoke) rushed him and dragged him into a hug as well.

“Hey. Sorry that I…left. Didn’t mean to.” Paddy mumbled, looking down when Hashaan walked over. The black dragonborn pulled him into a tight but brief hug, and he returned it. “Missed you guys.”

When Hashaan let him go and Malark moved over, Paddy watched him the same way he would have watched a stranger. Like he was a little scared, maybe. At the very least he was nervous. “Hey, Pads.” Malark said, and Paddy’s green gaze flicked up to his. At the same time, Ava “accidentally” bumped into Paddy from behind, sending him stumbling forwards.

Malark grabbed onto him so he didn’t fall, and for a split second he and Paddy were little more than a few inches apart.

Sending a look Ava’s way, he turned back to Paddy. “Hi.” The wood elf choked out, blinking a couple times, and then stammered, “I’m okay. Just—just a little tired.”

“Do you want to head upstairs? There’s an extra bed in one of the rooms.” In Malark’s room. It was a habit that he’d been lamenting earlier but now was pretty happy for. After a second, Paddy nodded, and Malark glanced at the others. “Why don’t we get some rest today, head out tomorrow. Find someone else who needs help.”

The others nodded and went about discussing some of the letters they’d received, and Malark helped Paddy walk upstairs. The second they were out of sight and in the doorway, Paddy said, “Wait, I want—I want to talk to you about something.” When Malark looked at him, his face flushed and he said, “Okay, it’s not so much talking. Can I do something stupid?”

“You do that a lot, you don’t need to ask.” Malark said before he could control his mouth (sometimes that happened when he was around Paddy). Whether or not he meant it as an insult, even he wasn’t sure.

Blushing, Paddy ducked his head. “Just—just punch me if you don’t like it.” He mumbled and Malark was about to say that he’d probably never punch Paddy when all of a sudden oh Paddy was kissing him that was what he was talking about and okay they were…they were doing that. In the hallway. Of one of the sketchiest inns that Malark had ever been in (and that was saying something). Not exactly how he had _thought_ that might happen but…okay. It had happened.

When Paddy stepped back, he looked a little bit uncertain. “Let’s just—let’s just go to bed.” Malark choked out behind the mask (the fact Paddy had kissed him with it on still surprised him but somehow it worked), voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. He hated the way Paddy ducked his head after the statement, like he thought he had done something wrong. He hadn’t. Malark just was _not_ going to have this conversation in the middle of a sketchy hallway in a sketchy inn in a slightly-less-sketchy mountain town named “sheep shoe”.

The second the door was closed, Paddy said, “This is your room, isn’t it?” When Malark nodded, the wood elf started visibly panicking. “Oh you offered me a room to sleep in and then I kissed you I—”

“Paddy, don’t worry about it. Trust me.” Malark tugged him over to the other bed, the one closer to the window, and lightly shoved him back on it. “We’re not having this conversation because _you_ are about as tired as Rook and I’m betting that has something to do with being brought back from the dead and all so lay down.” After a second, Paddy slumped down and took off his shoes. Taking a breath, Malark looked at him and asked, “Do you want to share a bed or do you want to sleep alone?”

“Well—”

“Don’t say what you think you should say, say what you want, Whitlaw.”

Paddy’s face flushed even more in the evening sunlight streaming through the window. “Do you mind sharing? I haven’t—I don’t like feeling _cold_ right now and—” He made an odd gesture and Malark sat down beside him, kicking his shoes off. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem."

**Author's Note:**

> : Cybil is probably one of my favourite characters to write because she’s random and that’s her main character trait. She’s from my actual series but she technically does and doesn’t exist yet and she exists in two different states (long story, her moms are in the series already but she’s not because she isn’t born until Jade Labyrinth and yet she shows up as an adult but also not her because that’s her from another universe…it’s weird there’s a connected canon between my series that does exist, the ones that don’t yet, and finally one that will never be but once was and that’s not even the start of it).   
> Anyways, this is basically what would have happened (roughly) with the original version of High Hopes Low Will to Live, but I went with the longer route. Because drama. And angst. All fun, all good things, really. I don’t know why Malark is so chatty in this.  
> And with that, into the fray once more!


End file.
